Mobius Trip
by Javanyet
Summary: What looks like the end might just be... the bend. The final stage of grief is acceptance, but some things require a bit more. This officially marks the end of the beginning of the Data and Leo story cycle. More to come, as my creativity allows...
1. Magical thinking

The Tainers arrived two days after Leo's screaming meltdown in the holodeck. They had, of course, been contacted as soon as the Enterprise was able to make contact, but all concerned had thought it best to wait until Leo at least had come to some sort of grips with the situation. Picard had personally contacted Juliana Tainer after the night he spent in Leo's quarters, reassured now that while deeply wounded she was at least coming to terms with the reality of her loss... as much as any of them were able, in any case.

_"Dr. Tainer," Picard began, and found he was unable to continue. How do you invite a mother to her son's funeral? On the viewscreen Juliana Tainer appeared drawn but calm, and as graciously insistent on doing things her way as she'd ever been._

_"Jean Luc. I think on this occasion we should address each other as family, and not Starfleet functionaries."_

_"I'm grateful Juliana, but I don't think I qualify as family."_

_A fond smile replaced the sad one. "Perhaps this time what others think should take precedence. My husband and I know well that Data considered you far more than a commander, and Leo would agree, I think, in terms that would leave little space for argument."_

_Now a smile pulled at Picard's mouth as well. It was as rare to him lately as it felt welcome now._

_"You have me there. Juliana, please come as soon as it's convenient. My earlier concerns have been resolved somewhat, and with some help Leo has come back from her 'hiding place'." Unknown to him, the memory of that short angry journey changed his expression. Juliana, as always, missed nothing._

_"I'm glad you were there to help her. Pran and I will depart by day's end, you may expect us tomorrow by 1000 hours."_

* * *

"Lieutenant O'Reilly, subspace communication on secure channel for you."

Lieutenant B'rek's level voice made Leo jump a mile. She'd returned to "their" (_my?_) quarters earlier that morning, and found she could handle it okay if she didn't look too closely at the shared possessions she and Data had collected since they'd met. They weren't numerous but it took a bit of concentration to avoid them. In the end she took a book – one she'd brought with her originally, not one of Data's gifts to her – and was absorbed in a volume of Poe. The comlink rang just as the black cat was about to be seized by the throat.

"_What?!!_"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Lieutenant. There is a subspace communication for you on a secure channel."

"Sorry, Lieutenant. I was kind of focused on something. Origin of communication?"

"Unknown, but the security code has been accepted."

"Okay, thanks."

She went to her desk (10 paces from Data's desk, and she had to walk a bit of roundabout to avoid looking at it-- _magical thinking_ -- it had worked well so far).

"Lieutenant O'Reilly here."

"My dear, dear Leo."

The voice was unmistakable, and entirely devoid of melodrama or clever nicknames.

"On visual." Leo inhaled a gasp before she could speak. People who meant a great deal to her were going to be arriving soon, people who in spite of their importance were prey to not keeping in touch except on special occasions. Or occasions like this. Leo was struggling to reconcile the pleasure of these reunions with the reason why they were happening.

"Lwaxana. Deanna said you were going to be in touch." The face that greeted Leo was as elegant as ever, though dimmed by genuine grief. Leo realized there had been very few times she'd seen Lwaxana's expression so… "unadorned by excess". "Genuine, but adorned by excess" was the affectionate description both Deanna and Leo used to describe Lwaxana Troi's typical demeanor.

"Oh my dear, I have nothing clever to say…" for a moment Leo thought Mrs. Troi was going to break down, but she regained her composure and continued, "I have nothing _at all_ to say that could be equal to this."

Leo extended her hand toward the viewscreen as if she could reach through and take Lwaxana's hand. "It's okay, Lwaxana, it's enough that you're here. I mean here in front of me. Deanna explained you can't be here for the… well you know. And that's okay too, I think it's all gonna be okay, if I let it. You know in the beginning I just shut everything off. I was just crazy, you know, none of it was real and none of it made sense. I'm sure Deanna told you… and I'm sure she felt guilty because she thought she was betraying confidentiality or something."

"How well we both know my daughter. But I'm glad you're coming back to us, from that dark place you were. There are too many of us who care about you for you to be successfully ignored. We _will _ find you wherever you hide."

"Captain Picard said the same thing," Leo confessed, "and just so you know I didn't just 'come back'… he dragged me back, kicking and screaming. Literally. Geordi tried first but I just beat the crap out of him, also literally." She paused, disturbed by the memory. "I don't know how I'll ever make that up to him."

"If I know Mr. LaForge, and I do, I think you won't have to. And it doesn't surprise me that, of all people, it was Jean Luc who was equal to the task. Nobody seems to want to admit it, but he is deeply fond of you. And I happen to know the feeling is mutual."

"There's no hiding from a full empath." That did make Lwaxana smile, and Leo was glad to see it. If they could all just inch closer to the way they were supposed to be, the way Data knew them, maybe that was the way to go.

Lwaxana sighed, "I only wish I could be there to give you a tremendous, healing hug. I don't know if it would help, but I know it would help _me_." She tried to laugh but couldn't quite pull it off.

"Seeing and hearing you is good enough for now. Next time we meet we can crush each other into little pieces."

"We'll be sure to alert Dr. Beverly in advance. Now I must go. I'm keeping you in my heart, my dearest one."

"I don't know if you can tell from this distance, but it helps more than you know. And you should also know that Data thought the universe of you, as a diplomat, and a friend, and a mother to Deanna. And a mother-of-the-bride to me, and a friend to the crew."

"Sometimes I think he was alarmed by my directness," Lwaxana suggested.

"Maybe. But he never doubted your intentions."

"Thank you for telling me that… even I can't read an android." With a wave of her hand Lwaxana banished the darkness of the moment, and morphed into Mom mode. "Now don't go hiding yourself in that black place again, Data would never approve. You'd be a very different person now if it weren't for him and the life you found together. You must never forget that, and you must never try to." She didn't shake her finger; she didn't have to.

"Maybe you _can_ read over all this distance," Leo acknowledged a little sheepishly. "Thanks for reminding me. I need a lot of reminding, a _lot_ of reminding, or I can go wandering off into the woods and then where would I be? Love to you, Lwaxana. O'Reilly out."

"And love to you dear."

The screen went blank.

_Data would never approve._

She wished she could consider it a cliché, but she knew that "never" had a very different meaning where Data was concerned, even now. And she knew that Lwaxana was right; certainly she hadn't told Leo anything new. Since Data's destruction Leo had been on the verge of rediscovering her talent for denial, for ignoring anything she didn't _want_ to be real. It was a talent that Data had "encouraged" her to abandon, and it had taught them both the limits of even an android's patience and creativity. If "cara mia" had been the "pause" button, nothing really stopped her like… "Stop". Never spoken anywhere but in private, and even then only in the most extreme of circumstances.

She sat for a moment, and conjured the memory of every time Data had firmly directed, "Stop." When she was being most unreasonable, when there was no time left for _him_ to be reasonable. Always undeniable, always loving.

Always right.

She stood and announced in a clear voice, "Stop."

"Operation to be ended?" the computer voice questioned.

"Bullshit. I'm gonna stop all this _bullshit_."

Even the computer had no reply as Leo worked her way slowly around the quarters she'd shared with her husband, lover, and friend. Every item, every piece of furniture and thought and memory. She examined them all, turned them in her hands and her mind, and woke herself up to the obvious.

"I'm gonna make you approve, D," she told the sepia-toned wedding picture that Miles had produced on an antique light camera. "Just you watch me."

* * *

**A/N: Regarding _magical thinking_****: this reference is inspired by Joan Didion's play Year of Magical Thinking, wherein she describes the tortuous behavior and daily life habits she underwent to cope with the death of her husband. They included rituals of avoidance that went beyond denial, intended to erase the fact of death by avoiding any reminder of the reality of her husband's absence. I don't do it justice with these few words, see it if you can. It's breathtaking (I saw Vanessa Redgrave do it in London last October... how sadly relevant now!)**


	2. Synchronicity

It was agreed that Data's memorial would be held in one of the Enterprise's larger conference rooms, usually reserved for the ceremonial arrival of honored diplomats. Though it could be said that hundreds of the Enterprise crew were well enough acquainted with Data, and certainly bereaved enough by his loss, to have reasonably attended, both Geordi and the captain decided that holding the gathering in any of the ship's holodecks would be unthinkable.

"I know I don't have any official say in the matter," Geordi had told Picard in the privacy of the ready room, "but doing this anywhere that even vaguely resembles where they were married…"

He hadn't needed to explain. Leo's final, painful confrontation of her loss had also occurred in the holodeck. No matter how it was programmed or who it contained, the feelings it would evoke were too painful to confront.

"Quite right, Geordi. I suggest the diplomatic reception room." He paused for a moment and shook his head. "I confess I'm at a loss… I have no idea at all what arrangements might be appropriate."

"Keiko and Beverly will take care of that. We thought day after tomorrow, 1300 hours might work."

Picard consulted his calendar. "Yes. The guests will all have arrived by tomorrow at 1800 hours." Another pause, and he regarded Geordi with an open expression of astonishment that erased the divisions of rank.

"'Guests'… as if it were a dinner party. Good god Geordi, however will we get through this?"

Geordi smiled then. It was a sad smile, but a certain one.

"Like everything else we've done on the Enterprise, sir. Together."

Picard nodded, but couldn't manage a smile. "Agreed. Thank you, Commander. Dismissed."

* * *

_What a godawful, utterly predictable move._

Starfleet so valued Data, so realized that he was something they could not do without, that they had created another. The "traumatically deactivated officer" Data, now known as "Data Series B", was smoothly recreated from existing tech specifications and engrams, and from the regularly transmitted updates of systemic analyses from Data himself… how could they not recognize the _ghoulishness_ of this decision? "Something" could be recreated. "_Someone_" could not.

Picard absorbed the content of Starfleet's communiqué long before he could process its substance. If Data had been so "valued" as an individual officer and member of Starfleet, how could they so quickly have pushed the proper buttons to create what was so poorly defined as a "replacement"? Nonetheless, Starfleet had just notified him as commander of the Enterprise that Data Series B would be commissioned and assigned to his ship as second officer, as Data had been. Apparently other interested parties had been considered unimportant. Including friends and fellow crewmates. Including Data's spouse. So much for Federation recognition of android humanity. Picard hit the comlink button on his desk with more force than usual.

"Picard to Counselor Troi."

"Troi here, Captain. What's wrong?" Deanna could hear the edge in his voice, and lately they had all been cutting to the chase.

"I've just received a communication from Starfleet Command…"

Deanna could hear Picard's fist as it pounded once on the desk.

"Captain? What is it?"

"It would be better if we discuss it in person. Please come to my ready room at your earliest convenience."

Something was definitely wrong, she could sense a turmoil in the captain that had seemed to quiet down in the week since Data's destruction. They had purposely delayed any memorial until everyone's emotions had settled a little more, but something obviously had stirred them up again in the captain. "I'm on my way. Troi out."

She found him staring at his viewscreen, his expression a combination of dismay and barely contained rage. The emotions she sensed boiling within him were almost startling in their intensity.

"Captain, what's wrong?" She sat and leaned forward on the desk. "What's_ angered _you so?"

He related the gist of the communication, ending with, "Good god, can they possibly be so _blind_ to the implications? After all this time, can they possibly be so cruelly blind?"

"Are you sure you read it correctly? We've all been a little distracted lately…"

Before Deanna could say more Picard whipped the viewscreen around to face her. "Read it yourself. There's not enough distraction in the universe to make its intent unclear."

For a moment Deanna could only sit in stunned silence. Finally she turned the viewscreen back toward the captain. "And you weren't consulted at all?"

A terse shake of the head. "Obviously the thoughts of the commanding officer of the 'traumatically deactivated officer' weren't worthy of consultation." He paused for a moment, then spat the despised phrase out again, "'the traumatically deactivated officer'! By god if this had been delivered in person I couldn't speak for my behavior. They didn't even use his _name_ except to refer to the 'newly created replacement android'." Picard turned off the viewscreen and struggled to regain control.

His silent struggle concerned Troi. "Captain? Please, tell me what you're feeling right now."

He huffed and shook his head in dismay. "I'm feeling… I'm _thinking_… did we really ever accomplish anything? After all the legal wrangling and personal struggle, after Lal and Leo and even the launch of the new Android Culture project at Daystrom, have they really not learned _anything_?"

"I think it will take them awhile to master a new vocabulary equal to the changes that they've acknowledged." Picard's tense scowl told her he disagreed. "Captain… there's more than frustration here. I can sense that you're also deeply offended, angered on a very personal level."

Picard sprang to his feet. "You're right about that, Counselor." He paced to the center of the room. "Data was a valued crewmember, a cherished colleague," he looked down at his clenched fists, and opened them.

"And a friend. And it disturbs you to see him devalued," Deanna observed.

"It _disturbed_ me to see him _destroyed_!" Picard exploded. "It disturbed me to see him hand me back my life and discard his own with an almost casual belief in the worthiness of the trade! This…" he pointed a trembling finger at the now-dark viewscreen, "this more than 'disturbs' me. He who they dismissively describe as the 'traumatically deactivated officer' was the _man_ who saved my life. Data's character was the sum of knowledge and experience, of trust and belief and, in the end, of _emotion_, far more than the sum of those parts or any other. He was a man who in substance and action put to utter shame those," suddenly he could think of no better descriptive than Leo's, "_empty suits_ at Starfleet and the Federation. And they have the gall to describe him as if he were some shiny new gizmo to replace the space in the toolbox. They have the unspeakable _effrontery_ to presume to 'replace' Data Soong as if his loss were simply an operational inconvenience!"

As she listened Deanna felt a sense of relief. As he'd been tending to the needs of his crew, and Leo in particular, since Data's demise Captain Picard had been carrying inside a powerful mix of rage and guilt. Troi had been unable to persuade him to explore or even admit to it during their sessions. She'd been encouraging the captain to open the doors to those deep chambers he refused to visit, but this admittedly dreadful idea of Starfleet's obviously had blown the locks right off and there was no more holding back.

So absorbed had Troi been in her observations, and Picard in his tirade, that neither one had noticed the chime of the door comlink. Or the hiss of the opening door, or Leo's entrance. Feeling a bit more herself after several days of rest and counseling sessions, she'd spent some time in the hydroponic gardens after some coaxing from Keiko, and now wanted to pay a visit to the captain to give him a bit less reason to worry about her. She caught only a part of the captain's outburst, the major impression being his outrage. But she also heard the words "replace Data", and in her mind it could only mean one thing. She sprang to the middle of the ready room, causing both Troi and Picard to jump dramatically.

"They've found him!" Leo cried out, "they've found him and fixed him, and he's coming back?!"

The stunned, awkward looks worn by Deanna and Picard could only exist on the faces of people who knew her as intimately as these two did.

"No, not exactly," Deanna explained, scrambling madly in her mind to come up with something that would counterbalance the rage she knew would at the very least be equal to the captain's. Before she could continue the captain stepped up to face Leo and laid his hands on her shoulders.

"No. I'm sorry you saw any of that, because what has happened is going to be very difficult to accept, and my initial rant was not at all constructive as I'm sure Counselor Troi will agree."

Leo looked at his hands and recognized the feeling in the gentle pressure of his fingers… _support…_ well, then, she owed it to him to listen calmly, whatever it was.

"What could possibly be worse than what's happened already?"

He glanced at Troi. "I might have asked that myself, a short while ago."

As the captain explained Starfleet's "replacement of the traumatically deactivated officer" both he and Deanna braced for Leo's reaction. By the time he'd finished, she stood before them looking more disoriented than enraged.

"I don't get it… you said they didn't find him, but he's being reassigned to the Enterprise." She'd heard every word, but couldn't process them in any way that made sense.

"No, Leo," Deanna attempted to clarify, "they didn't find Data. They have constructed a replacement from Data's original designs and what engrams they could download from his periodic reporting. 'Data Series B', that's the name they've given him."

Leo backed up a few steps, and regarded both Picard and Troi with a horrified stare. "But you can't let them _do_ this. A Data look-alike who won't _be_ Data?" Leo felt sick as she struggled to comprehend.

Even as he elaborated the captain could appreciate the absurdity of the words, "No... not a 'look-alike'. A replacement... reconstructed… from all of Data's specifications. A 'new' Data."

"Like a clone." It was the closest Leo could come to a thinkable analogy. Their silence was assent.

If they'd hoped that Leo would have an easier time with this than they expected, that hope evaporated as Troi and Picard saw her expression tighten.

She shook her head vigorously. What they were proposing was worse than… how could anyone have approved this? How could any of them, Data's supposed _friends_, have agreed to allow him to be replaced like a missing machine part?

"No, uh-uh, not a clone. More like a _symbient_ only in reverse. The _outside_ will be the same, but what's _inside_ will be... what?" Getting no answer she repeated in a louder voice, "_What_ will it be!"

"Perhaps you and Counselor Troi should discuss this privately," Picard suggested uneasily. It was what he was going to suggest to Deanna anyway, to meet with Leo and see how best to handle the whole nightmarish situation.

"_No!_" Leo stepped forward again. "You're telling me that a 'sort-of Data' will be reassigned, all the accurate bits and parts, all the programming downloaded nice and proper from all the proper records, and we're all just supposed to carry on as if it's _him_?"

Picard and Troi exchanged an uneasy look, and reluctantly the captain nodded. "I'm afraid so. If I'd been consulted, which I was not, I can promise you things would be different. As it is, it's all been arranged, all that remains is the scheduling of the reassignment, and reactivation of Data's commission."

Leo took a deep, anguished breath, and pressed her hands to her face for a moment. "Then it was all a lie. All of it. They said he was a man, _you _said he was a man. But now you're being sent a new one fresh off the shelf, what does that tell you? He's back to being a _toaster_ and without a whimper of protest from anyone!"

"Nothing we know to be the truth has changed," Picard said quietly, but he could see the doors in Leo's eyes had already slammed shut. "_Nothing._" He hoped his insistence alone would convince her. He wasn't quite surprised that it didn't.

"Well I can see there's no 'good fight' to be fought this time," Leo announced in a flat voice. "Captain, I request a transfer back to the Daystrom Institute."

"Leo, I don't think that would be wise right now," Troi began.

"I didn't _ask_ you, Counselor," Leo reminded her bitterly then continued to Picard, "Captain, I want _out_. I want _off_ this ship, I want to go back to Daystrom to continue the work I started with my husband." Her tone made it clear she did not consider the soon-to-be-reassigned 'Data Series B' to have any connection at all to the man she referred to.

Reflexively, Picard responded, "Request denied. Your assignment to the Enterprise continues at my discretion."

She wasn't having any. Goddammit, if they were going to be forced to redefine Data as replaceable at will, she didn't plan to be around to see the sorry spectacle unfold.

"I _have_ no assignment here," she spat angrily, "my diplomatic mission is moot, and my former position is rendered redundant. You have no reason to deny my request."

At this point Deanna interjected, "Captain, perhaps it would be best for me to return to my duties."

"Yes, yes, dismissed, Counselor." Picard's order was issued distractedly as he and Leo remained locked on one another.

"Sir?" Leo icily demanded a response.

"As the commander of the Enterprise I don't _require_ a 'reason', Lieutenant." Picard checked his rising ire with difficulty. They'd always been prey to their equal and opposite reactions, he and his administrative exec. "In any case, until you're released from bereavement leave you can't be reassigned to any duty at all."

_Shit. _"Well you have me there. Is there anything else, or can I return to my quarters?"

Picard studied her, perplexed. He sensed a wall rising, and wanted very much to halt its progress. "It was you who came here... what did you need from me?"

Now _that_ was a loaded question... Leo fought the urge to respond as she'd like to. "Oh. Right. I wanted to tell you how much _better_ I was feeling." She exhaled a bitter laugh. "Funny how things turn on a dime around here."

He had no answer to that. "Dismissed, Lieutenant."

Leo was almost to the door when she turned, unable to stop herself. "You _promised_," she implored, "you told us he was a _man_."

If she'd heard his entire tirade in Deanna's presence she might not have said it, but for some reason that didn't make the words any easier to for him to hear.

"So I did. And so he was."

"Captain, please, I request a transfer,"

He cut her off. "Denied."

The wall rose again.

"Yes, _sir_. But you can expect me to resubmit my request as soon as I'm cleared for duty." She turned on her heel and left.

* * *

_Why _did she do that, why did she _always_ do that? Now that Data was gone, was she completely unable to master her own worst impulses? When things got hard, when she felt cornered and was out of ideas, here she was again striking out and spitting poison at the ones who least deserved it. It was the faceless Federation that was responsible for the coming travesty, it was the cold and clueless efficiency of Starfleet, but they were too big and nebulous to lash out at. For Leo the surest antidote to her powerlessness had always been her ability to count coup on those closest to her. A faceless entity couldn't reflect a direct hit. Data's gentle recriminations had always been able to restrain her; had she learned so little from him? Here she was accusing everyone of turning their backs on him, but she was acting as if he'd made no impression on her at all.

It was late, nearly 0100 hours. She knew he'd be asleep or nearly so, but she knew also that if she waited her worst impulses might overtake her again.

"O'Reilly to Captain Picard."

"Picard here. What is it, Leo?"

His voice was laden with concern, not the edge of irritation she deserved. "I'm sorry to bother you so late, sir."

"No bother. Computer, on visual."

She was surprised to see the captain still fully dressed, albeit not in uniform, as sleepless as she had been. And she was grateful he'd called for visual, because left to her own devices she wouldn't have had the guts to look him in the eye.

"Sir, regarding my response earlier…" to what? She couldn't think of how to frame it sensibly.

"Not forgotten, perhaps, but understandable."

"Yours, too." Leo stared blankly for a moment, taking in his accepting expression. He always accepted her, just as she was, even when his better judgment told him not to. Nobody had ever needed to tell her that, though they did tell her. Or perhaps "reminded" was a more accurate word. Finally she blurted out, "Request permission to be considered the sorriest excuse for a well-adjusted adult who ever disgraced the uniform, sir."

A weary smile barely pulled at his mouth. "Denied."

"Okay. And about the other request you denied,"

"_Twice_, if I remember correctly." He braced himself for a repetition.

"Well it was a stupid request," Leo admitted freely, "I don't want out of the Enterprise, and I wouldn't have had any work to continue, not with _anyone_, if I hadn't been here first. Request permission to stay here doing whatever you see fit for as long as you'll have me."

"Granted." The smile, still weary, took on a warmth familiar to both of them. "You have a position, and a _home_, here for as long as you wish."

Leo's eyes narrowed. "I thought you said my assignment continues at _your_ discretion?"

"My discretion, perhaps, but your wish. It has taken some time, but I believe the two have achieved a certain… synchronicity."

She sighed. "Right as always. I'll really try to be reasonable about all this… I can't promise anything though. I guess I'm just not used to controlling my darker side on my own." Before Picard could respond, she corrected herself. "I know. I'm not on my own. I'll count on all of you to remind me of that if I forget."

"Understood. Things will be a bit busy for the next few days…" Picard meant the memorial, the many friends and colleagues who would be arriving, their company simultaneously welcome and emotionally trying.

"I'll be okay. How could I not be with everyone to help me?"

"Just the same… you know where to find me."

"Always."


End file.
